Clock Work
by MyBrokenButterfly
Summary: It was something she could count on. Not because he loved her, not because he was someone so needy as to need to check up on her. No it was because she is his slave, his and no one elses. minor, minor YxN


It was predictable, dependable.

Like clockwork.

Only much, much more nerve wrecking and somehow comforting.

(She wonders when she started to see it like that, something that she could count on.)

.

.

The first time it happened, it scared her beyond belief. She hasn't known what to do, what to say- if she should say anything at all. She was afraid that even her breathing would ruin the moment.

That reality would come crashing down around her and she'd realize she was dreaming.

Before she even had a chance to do anything, sunlight was already peeking through her blinds and he was gone.

Gone.

Just like that.

Like it _was_ all just a dream and she had imagined it all.

(Why would she dream or even _imagine_ such a thing?)

.

.

That day at school had been Hell on Earth.

She couldn't think, couldn't focus.

Couldn't. Even. Eat.

Shocked, right?

She didn't want to seem any different, not wanting to worry her classmates and fans so she still ate.

But not as much as she'd usually stomach.

More than a normal human, but less than her gigantic appetite craved for.

People didn't notice. Only her friends did.

When asked what the matter was, she smiled her thousand-watt smile and said it was nothing, just work stuff that they didn't need to worry about.

People took that answer. They had heard on the news about that horrible case she was just on. According to the news, it had been pretty dangerous. Maybe she was still in shock.

(Actually, she had forgotten all about that case…)

.

.

By the time the bell rang at the end of the day, she was practically shaking.

Her friends told her that she should maybe take a few days off of work, since that case seemed to have shaken her up pretty badly.

Again, she smiled, pushing away her nerves, and told them that it was her job and the cases weren't that bad.

It's what happened after the cases that freaked her out.

But, in a good way.

Not that she'd tell any of them that, because really, she doesn't want to seem like a love-struck teenage girl who's deliriously conjuring up such strange dreams.

Nope, she left that part out and went on her way.

To work.

Ugh.

But she still goes, because she'll know for sure how her day is going to go once she opens the door and at that moment she'll decide whether or not to run like hell and hide under her covers.

(Not like he doesn't know where she lives but still, it would make her feel better.)

.

.

She wasn't sure if she should be disappointed or elated when a swarm of arrows came her way as she opened the door.

"You're late."

She looks at the clock and shook her head.

She was _early_.

He grinned, a pointed-tooth grin, and grabbed the clock when she pointed that out. He smashed the glass covering with a flick of his finger and she was relieved to see his injuries from the day before were completely healed. With a long middle finger he moved the hands of the clock, changing the time.

He hung it back up on the wall.

And _smiled_ his innocent smile.

"Oh really?"

According to the clock she was ten minutes late. She sighed as she felt the palm of his hand smashing her to the floor.

"You're late, woodlouse."

(Had she really expected anything different?)

.

.

The next time it happened was right after the HAL case, the case where she had cried and yelled at him and he took it, completely unaffected by anything she said.

But that case she had also almost been scared out of her mind and almost killed several times.

Of course, she had been saved, but that's besides the point.

So that night, she hadn't been able to sleep but she pretended well enough, just incase her mother checked on her or incase an unlikely visitor stopped by.

Not that she wanted him to or anything.

But, it's not like she wasn't expecting it.

She heard it, almost felt it before she was completely sure.

She didn't move, just kept an even breathing pace and stayed still. She knew the feeling of him watching her from when they went to the hot springs before. It didn't scare her and she wondered if she really had gotten used to his ever present watchful eye.

He stayed there, watching her from the ceiling, not moving from what she could tell and she stayed where she was, perfectly still, like she really was asleep.

When dawn was breaking, her ears picked up the only sound in the room besides their breathing, a sigh, soft like he didn't want to break the silence anymore then she did.

And after that he was gone.

(Was she really that disappointed?)

.

.

After that, she noticed the pattern.

Every time her life was put in danger, (i.e. getting kidnapped by X or almost being shot) he would visit her while she was sleeping. Sometimes she tried to stay awake to wait for him. Sometimes she would be so tired she would just crash when she hit her bed.

But, it didn't matter because he still came.

He probably knew when she was awake too, because he was careful then, watching from the ceiling, not doing anything that would make her shy away from his line of sight.

Not that she would, she felt safe with him there.

They never talked about it but she knew he knew. They kept up appearances, him and his violence, her and her innocence.

She knew it wasn't because he loved her.

No.

He doesn't know what love is, him and his 'superior' race.

It wasn't because he was worried about her.

No, that would mean he saw her as more then a slave.

Something that was replaceable.

She _is_ replaceable. He wants to believe that.

It was because she's weak. She can't take care of herself even if she tried. She can't even evolve.

He did it because he wanted to check on his property, to make sure no one else touched it.

It wasn't love. It'll never be love.

But, maybe that's okay. Maybe this is as close to him as she can get.

Maybe this is his way of caring.

Maybe this is as good as she'll ever get it.

And maybe she was okay with that.

So she stays.

Stays still when he comes, stays by his side.

Even when he gets angry at her, even when he yells.

Even when he's injured, even when he's hungry.

She'll stay by his side.

Because she's attached to him. He's everything to her, even without trying.

And she's just his number 1 slave who has a knack for getting into peoples minds and hearts.

(When did they find such confidence in one another?)

.

.

It's like clock work.

Something she can depend on.

She's thankful for it because all her worried from that day vanish and just knowing that he's there lulls her into a nightmare-free sleep.

Something that used to be so rare after she started working as a detective and after she saw all of what her fellow humans can become.

_Thank you._

One night she whispers it. Not sure if she said it because he saved her again that day or because he was there but she said it with a smile on her face and felt him brush the hair out of her face as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed.

"Pathetic, amoeba."

(Somehow, insults aren't as bad when she feels him leaning against her bed as he sit on the floor, like a faithful guard dog of perfect timing.)


End file.
